Here you can find some material that may be helpful to you as you study John Steinbeck's East of Eden
East of Eden is part of your summer reading assignment. Here are some questions to consider as you read:
1. How do the negative traits of fathers influence their children? What is the role of good or bad parenting in this story? Who are the good parents, if any? 2. Does Adam love his brother? Do his feelings change? 3. Is Cathy Ames doomed by nature to be who she is, or does she have a choice? Is she a monster, or does she have redeeming qualities? How about by the end of the book? 4. How might Cathy Ames be an Eve-like figure? Or is she like Lilith, a demon created from filth, who, according to some Jewish myths, was Adam's first wife? 5. What role does human sexuality play in the lives of the characters?6. Steinbeck uses two very dignified characters, Lee and the whorehouse madam, who both are victims of racism. What does he seem to be saying?7. What are the roles that Lee plays? How does his use of language connect with those roles? Is he the stereotypical inscrutable, wise Oriental man, or is he convincing?8. Why does Steinbeck so explicitly have the Cain and Abel story read in the novel?
9. Look at the various wars during which parts of the story are set. How do the personal conflicts of the story relate to the wars?
10. How is Abra different from other women in East of Eden? How does she change the story?
11. What is the concept of timshel? Why is it important?
12. What is the role of death in the book?
Blogging East of Eden
August 16: Part I I love this book. There is so much in it. I could go on and on about every page, but we'll do quite a bit of that when we start class in September.
First let's look at Part I-- that's chapters 1-11.
Steinbeck loves to open books and stories with the setting, and the Salinas Valley in California is his favorite setting. It is where he grew up. Notice the loving description of the Gabilan Mountains, east of the river, as "beckoning" with "brown-grass love." In keeping with his title, he contrasts the east and west, talking of a "dread of the west and love of east." His chapter introducing the Hamiltons is something of a labor of love since he is portraying his actual family--fictionalized to be sure-- but still real people who are hard-working, poor, and strongly moral. The character of Samual, who takes pride in each of his children, and the very strong influence of Liza sets up a real contrast to the fictional Trask family that is described in chapter 3. Cyrus Trask is so much of a liar that he comes to believe his own stories. He has no care for his wife, and little for his infant son. The story of Adam's mother's determined suicide is chilling. The total self-effacement of Alice Trask is the complete opposite of Liza Hamilton. Adam and Charles, his half brother, clearly have a relationship that is rocky. The scene of beating Adam almost to death in the field over Cyrus' preference for Adam's gift instead of Charles' makes the allusion to Abel and Cain of Genesis very strong.
Cyrus' discourse on the philosophy of soldiering and its destruction of self is an interesting aside. It also seems here that Cyrus has been a more observant and thoughtful father than he has appeared to be. The statement he makes about Charles: "To put him in the army would be to let loose things which in Charles must be chained down, not let loose," is also interesting. It reinforces the idea that Steinbeck states that soldiers are most often people who do not like violence-- an intriguing paradox. Then, later, Charles' forehead is scarred in a very clear allusion to the Biblical mark of Cain.
For someone who has no remorse over almost killing his brother, it is strange how upset Charles gets when Adam doesn't come home. It also seems contrary to thought that it is Charles who never wants to leave the farm. Charles comes late to the realization that his father is a liar. Adam seemed to have known it earlier, but Charles only gets it when he sees his dead father's papers. I'm not sure I understand the point Steinbeck is making when he has Adam talk about having faith in his father in spite of the evidence that he has lied, and the idea that he can have that faith because he did not love his father.
It is sad that Cyrus loved the son who did not love him and didn't much love the son who did.
In Chapter 8, we meet Cathy, who is described as a monster. "To a man born without a conscience, a soul-stricken man must seem ridiculous. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. . . . to a monster, the norm is monstrous." So Cathy was apparantly born missing some essential sense of conscience.
She is described as having "tiny hands" and feet that are small , stubby, and like hooves. This description seems symbolic. She also continues to read Alice in Wonderland, a book in which a girl lives in a world where things are totally incomprehensible. Her lies and manipulation of people and their sexuality is horrific, but Mr. Edwards doesn't come across as sympathetic at all. You would think we'd be happy that he just about beats Cathy to death after what she did to her parents, but we aren't. So Charles recognizes something in Cathy as she does in him, but Adam is completely taken in. Why does she drug Adam and sleep with Charles? How will that serve her purposes? Is it insurance that neither brother will throw her out?
August 21 Part 2-- This part of the book revolves around the idea that Steinbeck sets up in chapter 12 at the beginning of the section. Morality has changed with the turn of the century. All the old ways are no longer reliable. As Adam buys land in the valley and connects with Sam Hamilton, it seems like the old values of hard work, reliability, love of the land, and caring for each other are strong. Adam wants to build his garden (of Eden) for Cathy; he wants to use the old Sanchez house that was built to live with the land, not fight against it as the Bordini house seems to do. Sam raises his kids in the old ways, and they thrive. But then there is Cathy. Cathy is not the Eve that Adam sees her as. She bears her children in an odd way and destroys Adam's dream of Eden. The story has definite Biblical parallels, yet there is no temptation that Cathy succumbs to or brings Adam to. And when the old values get denied by Cathy's behavior, Adam falls apart. It is Lee, who subscribes to the very old values of Chinese culture and American culture, and the Hamiltons with their clear-- and often Biblical-- sense of what is right that brings Adam back to himself.
There are a number of interesting asides here, and how they contribute to the narrative is a bit difficult to see. The chapter about Steinbeck's mother, Olive, is the most obvious one. The chapter begins with that theme about old ways as it talks about the role of the school in the community, but by the time the chapter ends with Olive's stunt flight, it seems way off topic. Lee emerges as a fascinating character here. His transformation from a pidgin speaking servant to a philosopher who holds the Trask family together parallels the false picture that Adam holds of Cathy. As her true nature is revealed to him, Lee's true nature is revealed as well.
Oh, how chilling are the chapters detailing Cathy/Kate's destruction of Faye. That slow, scheming exploitation of people's weaknesses that she uses to achieve her goal-- and not even a highly exalted one, it would seem-- makes her seem ever more terrible: a grinding, destructive, unstoppable glacier.
The final chapter of this section as Sam and Adam and Lee discuss the philosophy of life and the meaning of the Genesis story sets up the concepts of free will and especially of choice. The idea that God's rejection of Cain's offering didn't necessarily mean that Cain's offering-- or Cain-- was "bad" differs from so much of Christian theology that harps on notion that Cain's offering and Cain himself was inferior. This is the same idea that causes Charles so much grief. That God should have a preference for no good reason is both frightening in its arbitrariness and freeing in that it means that one does not need to feel guilty for that rejection. It is what one DOES with that acceptance or rejection that is important. This is a very existentialistphilosophy!
August 25--- Part 3 Endings and beginnings starting with the turn of the century. The story of Una and of Sam's slide into old age is so sad. Much of the first chapter of this section seems to be a tribute to Steinbeck's real uncle Tom-- a gentle and almost heroic man who ultimately cannot cope with the real world. Sam's acceptance of his coming death when he accepts his children's scheme to get him and Liza off the ranch is almost painful.
The contrasts between Aron and Cal showing Aron as the brother everyone loves and Cal as the watchful and less loved boy "fighting for his life." I immediately want Cal to win and like him better than Aron even though Cal is described as almost sneaky and mean.
It is interesting how the impending loss of Sam seems to at least temporarily wake Adam up a bit. But the real meat of chapter 24 is in the story that Lee tells about the Chinese tong's exploration of the real translation of Genesis and the concept of "timshel."
Sam is so bowled over by the idea of choice-- man can choose to triumph over sin or to allow it--- What a gamble he takes to tell Adam the truth about where and what Cathy is so that Adam can either live or give up entirely. The risk pays off. When Adam finally sees Cathy/Kate for who she really is, we are relieved. It took him long enough. Notice how again Kate's hand are mentioned-- they have aged far more than the rest of her, and it is her hands that end up kind of revolting to Adam. I have been impatient with wimpy Adam until Kate tries to hurt him by telling him that the boys might be Charles' sons since she has been with each brother once. When Adam says that it doesn't matter and really means it, I not only like Adam, but I'm ready to forgive him all his other weaknesses.
The meeting with Abra in chapter 27 reveals so much of how the boys differ and what their relationship is. That nasty, mean streak in Cal is worrisome, but so is the bull headedness of Aron. I am a bit grossed out by the way Aron wants Abra to play mother to him as well as her willingness to do so. Cal just seems so much more intelligent, but doesn't seem to be able to use that intelligence in positive ways. His enjoyment of creative, secret punishments and the ability to manipulate people and gain power over them seems so Cathy-like. Yet his reasons-- jealousy of the love given to Aron-- is a very different thing than Cathy's reasons. It is more like Charles' jealousy of Adam without Charles' mindless violence.
The story that Lee tells Adam about his mother is horrific. He tells it supposedly to show Adam that the truth is better than a lie, even when the truth is horrible. Maybe. How the boys will deal with learning about Kate is an interesting problem. Lee believes that the realization that Adam and he have lied to the boys will damage them more than knowing who their mother is. I think that's true of Aron, but not Cal. His reaction when he overhears the conversation between Lee and Adam about Cathy is not to be angry with them about lying, but to be horrified about his own capacity to use the knowledge to hurt his brother.
I love the portrait of the mechanic and the description of learning how to work the new car. It seems so funny to think that it would have been so complex to start a car.
Adam's moral dilemma about whether to tell Cathy/Kate about the money Charles left her is interesting. But, as Lee knows, it really is a false dilemma. Adam simply cannot fail to tell Cathy about it. But Cathy's reaction shows how she doesn't understand a motive of honesty. She is missing some basic human ability to recognize the good in people-- she sees only the bad and ugly. The tragedy is that she knows she's missing something but doesn't know what it is.
The final two chapters of this section are so sad. As Tom and Dessie try to overcome their underlying sadness, it just hurts to read. And then when Dessie dies, it is so obvious that Tom will consider it his fault, even though it really isn't . Tom's suicide is not a surprise, but it is tragic
August 28: Part 4 (Chapters 34-55)
The last part of this book pulls everything together into the story that Steinbeck calls, in chapter 34, the "ONE Story" the story of the struggle of good against evil. The idea of deciding whether a person is a good person or not should be based on whether people are sorry or glad the person has died is macabre, but rings awfully true. It's also a section of contrasts between dark and light, positive and negative, forward and backward. And, of course, it is very much connected to the Genesis story of Cain and Abel, even down to the "Am I my brother's keeper," allusion in Chapter 51: "Am I supposed to look after him?"
As we move to the end of the story, we have to see that Lee is really a member of the Trask family-- almost like a mother/wife in the role he plays. And though he has always thought he was just a servant, he discovers that his "brackish bookish dream" leaves him lonely, but his role as a member of the family fulfills him. When Abra tells him she loves him, in chapter 53, he finally has a complete validation.
Kate plays an interesting role in this section. By the time she kills herself, I feel almost sorry for her. She has never felt like other people and she has always been aware of it. The connection to Alice in Wonderland-- the ultimate awkward outsider in an insane world-- really puts her in perspective. Why does she leave everything to Aron-- I think because he looks like her and yet fits into the world she never can. She sees him as the person she always wished she could be. Yet, like Adam manufacturing a notion of Cathy, or Aron manufacturing notions of a perfect mother or a perfect Abra, Kate's concept of Aron bears no resemblance to the actual young man.
Aron-- he's so inflexible and totally unable to adjust to the world. I liked Abra's analysis in chapter 53: Aron is like a small child who, when things don't go his way, has a temper tantrum and runs away from the game, "[tears} up his world." That's certainly what Aron does when he gets mad over being called "Lettuce" after Adam's experiment shipping lettuce fails, and then when he decides to run away from Stanford, and finally, when he is so mad over learning about his mother that he enlists in the army. Rereading the section where Cal takes Aron to see his mother, I realized that Aron had to, in some sense, have known something. Abra had hinted about it; most people in town knew about it. So it wasn't so much the knowledge of his mother that sent Aron over the edge, I think, as being forced to acknowledge that the angel-mother he'd invented was never real. Cal's sin here was in removing Aron's carefully constructed fantasy. If Aron had not died, what kind of person would he have been on his return? I think a lot like his father in his least admirable ways.
Adam is so much like Aron, except his way of escaping, of tearing up his world, has been to hide inside himself-- or in the army-- or in being a bum-- or in a prison chain-gang. And in this last part, after we saw him finally emerging as a real person, trying new things, feeling over the decisions he had to make as a member of the draft board, it is painful to see him slide back down into the series of strokes that remove him again from participation in life.
I love the way Abra and Lee pull Cal away from his guilt and insist on making him see himself as a normal and reasonable human being. Cal is so clear-sighted about himself and his motives, although he is so very hard on himself. It makes me angry when Adam forgets the lovely, close connection that he and Cal experience after Cal's arrest in the gambling raid. He even forgets that it was Cal's idea to get Aron to graduate from high school a year early, and turns it on Cal when Cal tries to give the $15G to his father to buy his love. How sad is that! The description of Cal as a small boy leaning next to Adam's chair so that Adam will absent-mindedly pat his head is so sad. Adam's love is not worth a small part of the effort Cal makes to get it. Yet Adam is generally regarded as a good man. Well he wasn't much of a father.
Lee's forcing of the issue of forgiveness and blessing with Adam at the end is heroic, and I am certainly relieved it was successful. Without that final "timshel" what direction would Cal have gone? But with it and with the love of Abra and Lee, there is that hope that Lee talks about, that each generation is newly created and that we are not condemned to revisit the sins of one generation on another IF we choose not to do so. That final 'timshelf" frees not just Cal, but everyone. And even though the ending is sad, it is also uplifting.
East of Eden is part of your summer reading assignment. Here are some questions to consider as you read:
1. How do the negative traits of fathers influence their children? What is the role of good or bad parenting in this story? Who are the good parents, if any? 2. Does Adam love his brother? Do his feelings change? 3. Is Cathy Ames doomed by nature to be who she is, or does she have a choice? Is she a monster, or does she have redeeming qualities? How about by the end of the book? 4. How might Cathy Ames be an Eve-like figure? Or is she like Lilith, a demon created from filth, who, according to some Jewish myths, was Adam's first wife? 5. What role does human sexuality play in the lives of the characters?6. Steinbeck uses two very dignified characters, Lee and the whorehouse madam, who both are victims of racism. What does he seem to be saying?7. What are the roles that Lee plays? How does his use of language connect with those roles? Is he the stereotypical inscrutable, wise Oriental man, or is he convincing?8. Why does Steinbeck so explicitly have the Cain and Abel story read in the novel?
9. Look at the various wars during which parts of the story are set. How do the personal conflicts of the story relate to the wars?
10. How is Abra different from other women in East of Eden? How does she change the story?
11. What is the concept of timshel? Why is it important?
12. What is the role of death in the book?
Blogging East of Eden
August 16: Part I I love this book. There is so much in it. I could go on and on about every page, but we'll do quite a bit of that when we start class in September.
First let's look at Part I-- that's chapters 1-11.
Steinbeck loves to open books and stories with the setting, and the Salinas Valley in California is his favorite setting. It is where he grew up. Notice the loving description of the Gabilan Mountains, east of the river, as "beckoning" with "brown-grass love." In keeping with his title, he contrasts the east and west, talking of a "dread of the west and love of east." His chapter introducing the Hamiltons is something of a labor of love since he is portraying his actual family--fictionalized to be sure-- but still real people who are hard-working, poor, and strongly moral. The character of Samual, who takes pride in each of his children, and the very strong influence of Liza sets up a real contrast to the fictional Trask family that is described in chapter 3. Cyrus Trask is so much of a liar that he comes to believe his own stories. He has no care for his wife, and little for his infant son. The story of Adam's mother's determined suicide is chilling. The total self-effacement of Alice Trask is the complete opposite of Liza Hamilton. Adam and Charles, his half brother, clearly have a relationship that is rocky. The scene of beating Adam almost to death in the field over Cyrus' preference for Adam's gift instead of Charles' makes the allusion to Abel and Cain of Genesis very strong.
Cyrus' discourse on the philosophy of soldiering and its destruction of self is an interesting aside. It also seems here that Cyrus has been a more observant and thoughtful father than he has appeared to be. The statement he makes about Charles: "To put him in the army would be to let loose things which in Charles must be chained down, not let loose," is also interesting. It reinforces the idea that Steinbeck states that soldiers are most often people who do not like violence-- an intriguing paradox. Then, later, Charles' forehead is scarred in a very clear allusion to the Biblical mark of Cain.
For someone who has no remorse over almost killing his brother, it is strange how upset Charles gets when Adam doesn't come home. It also seems contrary to thought that it is Charles who never wants to leave the farm. Charles comes late to the realization that his father is a liar. Adam seemed to have known it earlier, but Charles only gets it when he sees his dead father's papers. I'm not sure I understand the point Steinbeck is making when he has Adam talk about having faith in his father in spite of the evidence that he has lied, and the idea that he can have that faith because he did not love his father.
It is sad that Cyrus loved the son who did not love him and didn't much love the son who did.
In Chapter 8, we meet Cathy, who is described as a monster. "To a man born without a conscience, a soul-stricken man must seem ridiculous. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. . . . to a monster, the norm is monstrous." So Cathy was apparantly born missing some essential sense of conscience.
She is described as having "tiny hands" and feet that are small , stubby, and like hooves. This description seems symbolic. She also continues to read Alice in Wonderland, a book in which a girl lives in a world where things are totally incomprehensible. Her lies and manipulation of people and their sexuality is horrific, but Mr. Edwards doesn't come across as sympathetic at all. You would think we'd be happy that he just about beats Cathy to death after what she did to her parents, but we aren't. So Charles recognizes something in Cathy as she does in him, but Adam is completely taken in. Why does she drug Adam and sleep with Charles? How will that serve her purposes? Is it insurance that neither brother will throw her out?
August 21 Part 2-- This part of the book revolves around the idea that Steinbeck sets up in chapter 12 at the beginning of the section. Morality has changed with the turn of the century. All the old ways are no longer reliable. As Adam buys land in the valley and connects with Sam Hamilton, it seems like the old values of hard work, reliability, love of the land, and caring for each other are strong. Adam wants to build his garden (of Eden) for Cathy; he wants to use the old Sanchez house that was built to live with the land, not fight against it as the Bordini house seems to do. Sam raises his kids in the old ways, and they thrive. But then there is Cathy. Cathy is not the Eve that Adam sees her as. She bears her children in an odd way and destroys Adam's dream of Eden. The story has definite Biblical parallels, yet there is no temptation that Cathy succumbs to or brings Adam to. And when the old values get denied by Cathy's behavior, Adam falls apart. It is Lee, who subscribes to the very old values of Chinese culture and American culture, and the Hamiltons with their clear-- and often Biblical-- sense of what is right that brings Adam back to himself.
There are a number of interesting asides here, and how they contribute to the narrative is a bit difficult to see. The chapter about Steinbeck's mother, Olive, is the most obvious one. The chapter begins with that theme about old ways as it talks about the role of the school in the community, but by the time the chapter ends with Olive's stunt flight, it seems way off topic. Lee emerges as a fascinating character here. His transformation from a pidgin speaking servant to a philosopher who holds the Trask family together parallels the false picture that Adam holds of Cathy. As her true nature is revealed to him, Lee's true nature is revealed as well.
Oh, how chilling are the chapters detailing Cathy/Kate's destruction of Faye. That slow, scheming exploitation of people's weaknesses that she uses to achieve her goal-- and not even a highly exalted one, it would seem-- makes her seem ever more terrible: a grinding, destructive, unstoppable glacier.
The final chapter of this section as Sam and Adam and Lee discuss the philosophy of life and the meaning of the Genesis story sets up the concepts of free will and especially of choice. The idea that God's rejection of Cain's offering didn't necessarily mean that Cain's offering-- or Cain-- was "bad" differs from so much of Christian theology that harps on notion that Cain's offering and Cain himself was inferior. This is the same idea that causes Charles so much grief. That God should have a preference for no good reason is both frightening in its arbitrariness and freeing in that it means that one does not need to feel guilty for that rejection. It is what one DOES with that acceptance or rejection that is important. This is a very existentialistphilosophy!
August 25--- Part 3 Endings and beginnings starting with the turn of the century. The story of Una and of Sam's slide into old age is so sad. Much of the first chapter of this section seems to be a tribute to Steinbeck's real uncle Tom-- a gentle and almost heroic man who ultimately cannot cope with the real world. Sam's acceptance of his coming death when he accepts his children's scheme to get him and Liza off the ranch is almost painful.
The contrasts between Aron and Cal showing Aron as the brother everyone loves and Cal as the watchful and less loved boy "fighting for his life." I immediately want Cal to win and like him better than Aron even though Cal is described as almost sneaky and mean.
It is interesting how the impending loss of Sam seems to at least temporarily wake Adam up a bit. But the real meat of chapter 24 is in the story that Lee tells about the Chinese tong's exploration of the real translation of Genesis and the concept of "timshel."
Sam is so bowled over by the idea of choice-- man can choose to triumph over sin or to allow it--- What a gamble he takes to tell Adam the truth about where and what Cathy is so that Adam can either live or give up entirely. The risk pays off. When Adam finally sees Cathy/Kate for who she really is, we are relieved. It took him long enough. Notice how again Kate's hand are mentioned-- they have aged far more than the rest of her, and it is her hands that end up kind of revolting to Adam. I have been impatient with wimpy Adam until Kate tries to hurt him by telling him that the boys might be Charles' sons since she has been with each brother once. When Adam says that it doesn't matter and really means it, I not only like Adam, but I'm ready to forgive him all his other weaknesses.
The meeting with Abra in chapter 27 reveals so much of how the boys differ and what their relationship is. That nasty, mean streak in Cal is worrisome, but so is the bull headedness of Aron. I am a bit grossed out by the way Aron wants Abra to play mother to him as well as her willingness to do so. Cal just seems so much more intelligent, but doesn't seem to be able to use that intelligence in positive ways. His enjoyment of creative, secret punishments and the ability to manipulate people and gain power over them seems so Cathy-like. Yet his reasons-- jealousy of the love given to Aron-- is a very different thing than Cathy's reasons. It is more like Charles' jealousy of Adam without Charles' mindless violence.
The story that Lee tells Adam about his mother is horrific. He tells it supposedly to show Adam that the truth is better than a lie, even when the truth is horrible. Maybe. How the boys will deal with learning about Kate is an interesting problem. Lee believes that the realization that Adam and he have lied to the boys will damage them more than knowing who their mother is. I think that's true of Aron, but not Cal. His reaction when he overhears the conversation between Lee and Adam about Cathy is not to be angry with them about lying, but to be horrified about his own capacity to use the knowledge to hurt his brother.
I love the portrait of the mechanic and the description of learning how to work the new car. It seems so funny to think that it would have been so complex to start a car.
Adam's moral dilemma about whether to tell Cathy/Kate about the money Charles left her is interesting. But, as Lee knows, it really is a false dilemma. Adam simply cannot fail to tell Cathy about it. But Cathy's reaction shows how she doesn't understand a motive of honesty. She is missing some basic human ability to recognize the good in people-- she sees only the bad and ugly. The tragedy is that she knows she's missing something but doesn't know what it is.
The final two chapters of this section are so sad. As Tom and Dessie try to overcome their underlying sadness, it just hurts to read. And then when Dessie dies, it is so obvious that Tom will consider it his fault, even though it really isn't . Tom's suicide is not a surprise, but it is tragic
August 28: Part 4 (Chapters 34-55)
The last part of this book pulls everything together into the story that Steinbeck calls, in chapter 34, the "ONE Story" the story of the struggle of good against evil. The idea of deciding whether a person is a good person or not should be based on whether people are sorry or glad the person has died is macabre, but rings awfully true. It's also a section of contrasts between dark and light, positive and negative, forward and backward. And, of course, it is very much connected to the Genesis story of Cain and Abel, even down to the "Am I my brother's keeper," allusion in Chapter 51: "Am I supposed to look after him?"
As we move to the end of the story, we have to see that Lee is really a member of the Trask family-- almost like a mother/wife in the role he plays. And though he has always thought he was just a servant, he discovers that his "brackish bookish dream" leaves him lonely, but his role as a member of the family fulfills him. When Abra tells him she loves him, in chapter 53, he finally has a complete validation.
Kate plays an interesting role in this section. By the time she kills herself, I feel almost sorry for her. She has never felt like other people and she has always been aware of it. The connection to Alice in Wonderland-- the ultimate awkward outsider in an insane world-- really puts her in perspective. Why does she leave everything to Aron-- I think because he looks like her and yet fits into the world she never can. She sees him as the person she always wished she could be. Yet, like Adam manufacturing a notion of Cathy, or Aron manufacturing notions of a perfect mother or a perfect Abra, Kate's concept of Aron bears no resemblance to the actual young man.
Aron-- he's so inflexible and totally unable to adjust to the world. I liked Abra's analysis in chapter 53: Aron is like a small child who, when things don't go his way, has a temper tantrum and runs away from the game, "[tears} up his world." That's certainly what Aron does when he gets mad over being called "Lettuce" after Adam's experiment shipping lettuce fails, and then when he decides to run away from Stanford, and finally, when he is so mad over learning about his mother that he enlists in the army. Rereading the section where Cal takes Aron to see his mother, I realized that Aron had to, in some sense, have known something. Abra had hinted about it; most people in town knew about it. So it wasn't so much the knowledge of his mother that sent Aron over the edge, I think, as being forced to acknowledge that the angel-mother he'd invented was never real. Cal's sin here was in removing Aron's carefully constructed fantasy. If Aron had not died, what kind of person would he have been on his return? I think a lot like his father in his least admirable ways.
Adam is so much like Aron, except his way of escaping, of tearing up his world, has been to hide inside himself-- or in the army-- or in being a bum-- or in a prison chain-gang. And in this last part, after we saw him finally emerging as a real person, trying new things, feeling over the decisions he had to make as a member of the draft board, it is painful to see him slide back down into the series of strokes that remove him again from participation in life.
I love the way Abra and Lee pull Cal away from his guilt and insist on making him see himself as a normal and reasonable human being. Cal is so clear-sighted about himself and his motives, although he is so very hard on himself. It makes me angry when Adam forgets the lovely, close connection that he and Cal experience after Cal's arrest in the gambling raid. He even forgets that it was Cal's idea to get Aron to graduate from high school a year early, and turns it on Cal when Cal tries to give the $15G to his father to buy his love. How sad is that! The description of Cal as a small boy leaning next to Adam's chair so that Adam will absent-mindedly pat his head is so sad. Adam's love is not worth a small part of the effort Cal makes to get it. Yet Adam is generally regarded as a good man. Well he wasn't much of a father.
Lee's forcing of the issue of forgiveness and blessing with Adam at the end is heroic, and I am certainly relieved it was successful. Without that final "timshel" what direction would Cal have gone? But with it and with the love of Abra and Lee, there is that hope that Lee talks about, that each generation is newly created and that we are not condemned to revisit the sins of one generation on another IF we choose not to do so. That final 'timshelf" frees not just Cal, but everyone. And even though the ending is sad, it is also uplifting.